


wandering in the shade

by soapyconnor



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Comical Misunderstandings, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, i guess?, lots of pinning, pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 20:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19383724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soapyconnor/pseuds/soapyconnor
Summary: leave it to john tracy to be able to send brains' life into a tail spin.





	wandering in the shade

**Author's Note:**

> i intended this to be longer but this is all i managed to get out before i lost,,,interest i guess??? idk leave me be. also this isn't beta'd

            John Tracy was an enigma.

            Hiram occasionally glanced behind him, trying to be an inconspicuous as possible as he peered at the young man, who hardly ever paid attention to class lectures. Immediately, his gaze fell upon him, and was surprised to see him taking notes for once.

            Hiram pushed his glasses further up his nose, and shifted a little bit on his seat before turning around. Moffie glanced at him, and slid him a note.

            _Stop staring at that Tracy kid._

            Hiram rolled his eyes and slid a note back.

            _If you weren’t so behind in notes, you’d be staring too._

Moffie stared down at the note and snorted, before returning to face the professor. Hiram took notes, not nearly to the intense degree as Moffie did, and after a few minutes passed, he glanced behind his shoulder.

            His heart leapt into his throat when he made eye contact with John, and he couldn’t look away. John quirked an eyebrow. Hiram broke out of his trance and hunched forward, curling his body over his notebook.

            “Told you you’d get caught if you stared,” Moffie whispered to him, and he nudged her in turn.

            The professor paused in his lecture, staring Moffie down. “Anything you would like to say, Ms. Moffat?”

            Moffie jerked her head down, and yelped, “No! No sir!”

            Hiram buried his face into the palm of his hand, and let out a sigh.

 

 

            Leaving the lecture hall later that week, Hiram found himself alone as he took a moment to rearrange his things. He caught a glance of John as he left, the man’s features as impassive as ever. As he slid his overly large astro-engineering textbook into his backpack, he heard a voice call out, “John!”

            Hiram looked up in time to see a burly man come out from the tree line, immediately wrapping an arm around John’s shoulders. John didn’t shrug away from the man, and Hiram could have _sworn_ that the man even leaned into it.

            He stood, dumbfounded, his binder slipping from his fingertips. Swallowing thickly, Hiram quickly gathered his things and headed towards the library.

 

 

            “He has a _what_?”

            A shh echoed from the librarian, her eyebrows set into a firm scowl. Hiram and Moffie both ducked their heads, scooching closer together around the table. Moffie mumbled an apology.

            “A b-b-b-boyfriend,” Hiram swallowed, licking his lips and chewing at his dry skin. “I know it s-sounds weird, but I’m t-telling you, t-t-this man came up and put an arm around his shoulder.”

            “Could’ve been friendly.” Moffie stuck out her tongue as she began to work on her physics homework.

            Hiram shook his head. “When have you s-s-seen John be friendly with _anyone_?”

            Moffie hummed, sitting back on her heels, chewing on the end of her pen. “Well . . . yes, you’re right.”

            Hiram ran a hand through his hair, looking down at his textbook. It wasn’t like it was really a _problem_ , but it was just more . . . unexpected. John, who had been unsocial since he had arrived at the college earlier that fall, with another human being? And being _okay_ with human touch? Hiram sat back in his chair, sucking on his bottom lip. Maybe John had friends that they didn’t know about. But their . . . _spy_ said the only person that ever entered or exited his apartment was John himself—there was never any other movement besides him.

            It didn’t really strike Hiram as _normal_.

            “I’m just . . . c-confused,” Hiram admitted, watching Moffie roll her tongue between her teeth. “Everything we k-know about him—”

            “Maybe we don’t know him that well,” Moffie shot back, humming quietly before she snapped her fingers. “Drastic times call for drastic measures.”

            “What do you—”

            “We’re going to befriend John Tracy!” she shouted, rising to her feet. Hiram shrunk into his chair, pulling his bag over his head. “Even if it’s the last thing we’ll do!”

            A loud shush echoed through the library, from more than just the librarian. Hiram swallowed his embarrassment and quickly gathered his things. Moffie looked at him with a grin. “It’s _genius_.”

            “It’s s-s-stupid.” He pushed his glasses up further on his face. “How do you expect to even get _close_ to him?”

            “ _I_ ain’t gonna do anything. _You_ will.”

            Hiram’s face flushed and he turned away. “I’m not going t-to be a part of t-this.”

            “You will, Brains-y boy.” Moffie giggled. “In fact, you’ll be my secret weapon. You just know it yet.”

            His stomach sank to his knees.

 

 

            “ _Oops_!”

            Hiram stumbled, falling to his knees outside of the lecture hall, his books scattering along the concrete. He turned, glaring harshly at Moffie. “Q-quite it out, w-will you!” He snapped; throat tight. He gathered his belongings, and continued to glare at Moffie, who tried to look completely innocent as John walked by. “Y-you’re such a c-child!”

            Moffie shrugged, grinning widely at him, before she turned, hiding her face.

            “ _Moffie!_ ” Hiram scowled, momentarily forgetting about his dropped items. “Y-you’re getting on my nerves s-so much—”

            “Need some help?”

            His head shot up faster than he wanted to admit, jaw dropping and glasses going askew. Lo and behold, his head enwreathed by a golden halo, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. Slowly kneeling, John Tracy reached out to adjust Hiram’s glasses. “You all right?”

            Snapping out of his trance, Hiram squeaked and nodded. “Y-yes, my friend,” he shot a glare at Moffie, who continued to whistle, “Is being awful t-to me.”

            John arched an eyebrow. Long, spindly fingers began to pick up Hiram’s textbooks. The grace and elegance in which John managed to just, well, _exist_ , awed Hiram and made him feel like a lesser human being all at once.

            “Would you like me to take care of her?” John shot a glance at Moffie, who’s eyes went wide and she hid behind her stark black hair.

            “No!” Hiram squeaked, his gaze darting away as John met his gaze. The two of them rose to their feet, Hiram slowly taking his stuff back. “No, no . . . she’s . . . don’t w-worry about her. She’s harmless, really. Just likes t-to poke around sometimes.” John looked extremely unimpressed, and glanced down at Hiram’s textbooks.

            “I see.” He hummed, eyes scanning the cover before he handed the rest over. “You’re in my astronomical engineering class.”

            Licking his lips, Hiram forced himself to speak, “Y-yes. I’m in a lot of your c-classes, actually.”

            “I’ve noticed. Hiram, yes?”

            Hiram’s jaw dropped open a bit, and he shifted from side to side. _John Tracy knows who I am_? “Yes!” he said, a little too excitedly.

            The corner of John’s lips quirked. “Nice to meet you. I’m John,” he said, holding out a hand. Hiram shook it, and bit on his tongue, refusing to go, _Yes! I know you! My friend and I are obsessed over you!_ “Have you started working on the project in Literature through the 1900’s?”

            Pushing his glasses up over the bridge of his nose, Hiram nodded. “Y-yes, I have, but I seemed t-to have lost my t-textbook, and I cannot remember what Professor Lawton has set for the requirements.”

            John hummed. Even _that_ sounded magical. “If you would like, I could help you. I am having trouble with the analysis portion for _I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream_. Perhaps I can loan you the textbook and we can rerun over the requirements, and bounce ideas off of each other?”

            Hiram couldn’t speak, his hands were shaking. He didn’t snap out of it until John placed a hand on his shoulder. “Hiram? Are you all right?”

            “Brains,” was the first thing he came out of his mouth. John frowned, and Hiram adjusted. “C-call me Brains. E-everyone does.” He swallowed, tearing at his lip. “I would love t-to do that. I-is there any t-time that would work for you?”

            John shrugged. “Whenever, really. I’m not busy—”

            A large blur came out of nowhere, grabbing John by the shoulders, and causing Hiram to stumble backwards. His eyes went wide upon seeing the same man from before.

            “ _Virgil_!” John cried indignantly, standing up straight and pushing away the grinning man. Virgil grinned at John, before threw an arm around his shoulders. John frowned. “How rude of you.”

            “I’m _never_ rude,” Virgil said, before looking at Hiram and giving him a smile. All of Hiram’s confidence left his body.

            John scowled, and shoved at his boyfriend, before turning back to Hiram. “Do you have a phone?”

            Hiram nodded, his hands shaking as he pulled out his phone, and handed it to John. John didn’t seem to notice the change in his personality as he typed in his number, and sent himself a text. John leaned back on his heels, leaning against Virgil. Hiram swallowed.

            “I’ll send you a text and we’ll figure out when to meet up.” John waited until Hiram just gave a weak nod. “See you around, Brains.”

            The two men left, and began to speak in hushed tones. Virgil, at one point, leaned his head back and laughed.

            “Yes!” Moffie exclaimed, launching herself onto Hiram and holding him tightly. Hiram blinked, his heart hammering into his throat. “Now you can figure out what the hell’s going on!”

            “I s-suppose so.”

 

 

            Brains rolled on his feet, staring at the apartment door. John had texted him later that day, and asked him when it would work out for him. Well, Brains didn’t have a job, and didn’t have anything better to do, so he had been honest.

            He hadn’t expected John to invite him over _that night_.

            Hesitantly, he knocked on the door.

            Without a pause, he heard a hurried, “Come in.”

            Stepping inside the apartment, Brains was immediately blown away by just how _nice_ it was. Yet again, John _was_ the son of a former astronaut . . .

            John was sitting on the couch, curled up in his pajamas, hands curled around a cup of some sort of . . . steaming liquid. The TV was on, playing some sort of space documentary, and his textbooks were scattered about on the coffee table.

            Hiram didn’t miss the sight of Virgil’s flannel discarded on the couch.

            “H-Home alone?” Hiram asked, not sure what to do or where to sit.

            John shook his head. “Virgil’s in the shower.” He glanced at Hiram. “Want a cup of hot chocolate? I’d offer coffee, but considering Virgil’s . . . hm, _addiction_ , I had to hide it.”

            Hiram shook his head rapidly. “No, I’m good.” He toed his shoes off, and headed to the couch, sitting awkwardly next to John.

            His eyes traveled across the room, shoulders rolling back a bit upon seeing some things that didn’t . . . make John seem like such an enigma. Photos of him with his father, mother, and some boys. He couldn’t tell if they were friends or not. Photos of him at NASA, photos from a high-powered telescope, things that made him seem . . . normal.

            Trying to act uninterested, Hiram turned and began to pull his laptop out of his bag. He blinked as the photo sitting on the end table came into view. Virgil and John were both in it, surrounded by John’s dad and the boys that frequented the other photos.

            “Those are my brothers.”

            Hiram jumped and whipped around; his eyes wide. He met John’s gaze, squeaking, “I wasn’t staring!” He couldn’t read the man’s impassive gaze; he couldn’t read _anything_. John was so closed off, oh God, he was going to have a panic attack—

            “It’s all right.” The words were so soft, so _calm_ , so . . . unoffended that Hiram couldn’t quite believe it. He turned to look at John, who was giving him a small, reassuring smile. “You were bound to get curious.”

            Brains pushed up his glasses. “I’m n-not here t-to stare at your stuff.”

            John shrugged. “Who cares? I know you’re curious. Hand me the photo.” John adjusted himself, and got a little closer to Hiram. Hiram tried not to show just how _curious_ he was, but he knew he was failing. Swallowing his anxiety, he tried to listen as best as he could. “My father, Jeff,” he said, pointing out each family member as he spoke, “My older brothers, Scott and Virgil, and then these two are Gordon and Alan.”

            Hiram’s eyes went wide a miniscule amount. _They’re brothers, not lovers_ , he thought, and suddenly his face flushed. _God, I’m so **stupid**. _“That’s q-quite a family.”

            John nodded. “It is.” He put the photo back, and yawned. He picked up his mug again, and took a sip. He nodded in the directions of the books. “If you would like to take a glance over the material . . .”

            “Oh! Yes!” Hiram scrambled to grab the book, heaving it into his lap as John continued to blow on his hot chocolate and sip on it. Hiram swallowed and began to find the section, glancing at John occasionally. He heard the shower turn on, and then music began to play. He chewed on his tongue. “So . . . Virgil—”

            “You’re not the only one to assume that he was my lover,” John said, coolly, a long finger tracing along top of the liquid. He didn’t seem to mind that it was still _steaming_.

            Hiram shrunk down. “I w-wasn’t going t-to say t-t-t-that,” he said, although it was very much on his mind. “I was just g-going to a-ask if he was v-visiting.”

            John hummed. “Yes. College is out for him, at the moment. He should be going back within the next week. Father thought it’d be a good idea if he bothered me for a while.”

            “He seems t-t-to care about you v-very much.”

            “Hm. Yes, well, that’s what Virgil does.”

            Hiram’s eyebrows furrowed, but he didn’t get a chance to say anything more. “So, what do you have so far on the analysis?” John asked him, his voice cool. There was no sign of him even being troubled by the conversation.

            “Ah, yes, well . . .”

            The two of them began to work in silence, occasionally discussing the documentary and tossing ideas around. It was . . . surprisingly fun and calming. The discussions they had were far more insightful and thought-provoking than any other conversations he had with his friends. There was an intellectual bond that he had with John that he had been missing with the others . . .

            It didn’t help when Virgil entered the room, either.

            The bathroom door creaked open so quietly, Hiram either didn’t hear it, or he had been spacing off that bad. One moment he and John were talking about thermodynamics, and the next moment he was sitting, loose lipped and trying to find _something_ to say as John’s behemoth of a brother entered the living room, a towel hung low on his hips, the entire room suddenly filling up with the smell of pine.

            “Johnny, you didn’t tell me you had _friends_.”

            Well, that broke Hiram right out of his daze. John rolled his eyes, and gave a soft sigh. “I’m working on some school related things, Virgil. If you wouldn’t mind giving us some privacy . . .”

            “Oh, I _would_ mind,” Virgil replied with a wink, “Don’t want my baby brother getting into any trouble!”

            John let out a groan, and sank down into the couch cushions. Virgil chuckled, and Hiram couldn’t help but smile. It was . . . well, rather sweet.

            “Virgil.”

            “All right, I’m going, I’m going.” Virgil glanced at Hiram. “It was nice meeting you. Take care of my brother—”

            “ _Virgil_!”

            Virgil laughed, and Hiram couldn’t help but giggle at that. Virgil gave them a two fingered salute, before he headed towards the bedroom.

            John scrubbed at his face. “I’m sorry about that,” he said with a sigh. “Now, where were we . . .”

            Hiram felt a little easier after that whole experience, a light smile on his face for the rest of the evening. Surely, he had thought, he would have gotten to have many more good nights with John, and even some with Virgil, when the older brother decided to come and visit. Leaving the apartment that night, he had thought it to be nearly true.

            Absolute.

            _Oh, while the former would most certainly be true, the latter would hurt a lot much more._

 

 

            Brains rubbed his eyes. “You want me t-to what now?”

            “I know there’s nothing wrong with mine or your systems, Brains,” John chastised, his words coming as easy as his body’s adjustment to weightlessness. And to think, it had only been five years since the last time they had seen each other face to face. After graduation, life had taken them very alternate directions—not that Hiram minded, mine you. Between the both of them, they had enough degrees to make anyone’s head spin. Life had seen to them not being apart of each other’s lives for a long while.

            “I know, but t-this sounds really w-w-weird, considering we have not s-spoken in a long t-time. And y-your father wants me t-to design him something?”

            “Well,” John said, clearing his throat. “If all goes well, there’s going to be many more you’ll get to design.”

            Brains swallowed. “T-this is a lot t-to dump on a person, John.”

            John shook his head. “My father doesn’t need an immediate answer, but he’d like one soon.” John’s eyes softened. “Brains . . . I know we haven’t spoken to each other in the last couple of years, but I know _you_. While your talents are being put to proper use, there’s so much more you could be doing.”

            Brains shook his head, mouth suddenly dry. “I’m completely c-c-content with what I am doing n-now.”

            “But for how long?” John pointed out. A brief moment of silence fell over them, before John let out a sigh. “Brains, I’m not telling you that you _have_ too, but I’m just asking you to consider it. Will you?”

            “. . . Yes.”

            “Thanks,” John said, smiling. His eyes were drawn away from the holovid, and he cursed, “I’ve got to go. Let me know your answer, whenever.”

            “W-will do.”

            Brains closed down the video, and bowed his head, listening as M.A.X moved around the room, beeping. Brains rubbed his hands over his face, licking his lips. John had put him in a tight spot—not because Brains was torn, but because John _knew_ what Brains was going to say, how he _actually_ felt about his current job.

            He needed to wait. Make sure he didn’t prove John’s assumption correct.

           

 

            “It’s nice t-to meet you, Mr. T-Tracy,” Brains said, and was rather shocked by just how tight the man’s grip was.

            “Good to meet you too, Mr. Hackenbacker. John’s told us a lot about you, and I’m quite intrigued to see what you have to offer,” Jeff responded, a smile blooming across his face before he threw an arm around Brains’ shoulders and began to lead him through the villa.

            All of this was . . . so strange to Brains. He had barely given the two-week notice for his job and had been swept away to Tracy Island. He had barely gotten his bearings and was now being dragged away by the man he was supposed to impress.

            Entering the lounge, Brains pushed his glasses further up his nose. “I just h-hope my work is satisfactory.”

            “From what John has told me, I don’t doubt that you will be able to help us,” Jeff said, giving him a large smile. Brains tried to smile back, but his anxiety was making it hard to seem confident. Jeff turned, his gaze darting up to a balcony. “Virgil, my boy! Mr. Hackenbacker is here.”

            Brains froze, knocking into Jeff a bit as his eyes traced up to one of the elder sons. Virgil, still as daringly handsome as he had been that day they had met, glanced down at them, paint smeared across his face and cheeks. Virgil smiled down at him, and waved. “It’s good to see you again, Brains. Scott didn’t give you too much trouble on the ride over, did he?”

            His face flushed. “It was f-fine. Scott is a v-very good pilot.”

            Virgil grinned and winked. “Now, that’s what I like to hear!”

            Brains opened his mouth, _desperate_ to continue this conversation further, but he was stopped by Mr. Tracy. “—I appreciate you two being able t’ get along, but Mr. Hackenbacker, I’m _really_ interested in you looking at my blueprints. Would you like to see the lab?”

            _Americans_ , Brains thought, _they always talk so quick_. “Yes, Mr. T-Tracy, I’d l-like that . . . and please, c-call me Brains.”

            “I think I prefer Mr. Hackenbacker better,” Jeff said, winking at him. “Come along, then. Let’s get going.”

            Brains glanced back at Virgil, who had resumed painting without another thought. Brains swallowed. _Perhaps once I get settled, things will get better . . ._

 

            Brains should have known better than to wish.

            Sitting off of the balcony of the villa, he watched as Thunderbird 3 took off. Things had just gotten busier and busier since he had arrived on the island, and now, three years later, he began to wonder if he’d _ever_ get what he wanted. Or hoped for.

            “Hey.”

            Brains jumped, his head whipping around. He pushed his glasses up his nose, face flushing as he watched Virgil stride towards him, before he sat down, their thighs brushing. “H-hello.”

            Virgil smiled. “Didn’t think I’d see you out here.”

            Brains shook his head, licking his lips. “Needed some t-time to clear my t-thoughts. I . . . I never e-expected that our services would be n-needed so much.” Thunderbird 3 began to disappear from their sights, and Brains shuddered. _Good luck, boys_.

            “I don’t think dad did, either. I’m glad we’re making a difference in the world, though.”

            Brains curled his legs up towards his chest, and wrapped his arms around them. “I’m glad I c-could be apart of it.” He adjusted his glasses. Suddenly feeling extremely sorry for himself, he added, “I’m s-sorry someone had t-to come from the outside world.”

            Virgil’s thick eyebrows furrowed together. “Huh?”

            “I mean . . . I’m sure y-y-y-you would rather have k-kept this all to y-yourselves. K-kept it as b-big of a secret t-t-that you could.”

            “. . . You were a very big part of the reason why we could get this up and running. A very big part of the reason why we could do it so _quickly_.” Virgil clapped a hand on his shoulder. His heart leapt into his throat. “You’re family now, Brains.”

            “I s-suppose so.” He bit down on his tongue. “I worry t-that I in-intrude too much.”

            “You don’t intrude _enough_ ,” Virgil pointed out. “We hardly ever see you out of that lab.”

            The words tumbled out of Brains’ mouth before he could stop them. “I don’t want to make you feel bad.”

            Silence fell. Brains’ heart was racing so hard and he couldn’t bring himself to look at Virgil. His hands began to shake, and he considered tossing himself into the ocean, and allow the tides to bash him against the rocks until he died.

            “Me? Why would you make me feel bad?” Came Virgil eventually, and he said, “Brains—” as said man tried to get up and run. Virgil’s hand darted out, steadying him as he tripped and lowering him to the ground. “Talk to me.”

            Brains picked at his skin. “I have a crush on you!” he squeaked. “Have since college! And I d-don’t want y-you to f-feel bad for r-r-r-r-r-r-rejecting those advances! Because I u-u-u- _understand_! You’re . . . well . . .” He waved his hands wildly. “ _You_! And I’m m-m- _me_ and t-t-t-this is so _silly_ —”

            “Whoa! Calm down!” Virgil grasped Brains’ shoulders, steadying him and breaking Brains out of his rant. “You’re _fine_. There’s nothing about me that makes me any better than you, you understand?” When Brains opened his mouth, Virgil silenced him, “Stop _talking_ about yourself like that. You’re a good man, a _wonderful_ man, and I feel kind of insulted that you would think I didn’t have _any_ feelings for you.”

            “I’m not—” Brains paused, his eyes going wide as he fully processed what Virgil said. “W-w-w-what—”

            Virgil shook his head, and chuckled. “Here, I thought _I_ was the one with unreturned feelings.”

            “Y-you mean—”

            “Yeah.” Virgil said, smiling softly at him, placing his hand gently over Brains’. “I do.”

            Slowly, Brains relaxed and wrapped his fingers around Virgil’s. “Oh.” Brains swallowed. “Well . . . I guess that changes a lot of things, doesn’t it?”

            “Yeah. It really does.”

            Brains couldn’t stop staring at Virgil, and Virgil just accepted it, smiling softly at him. Brains’ heart fluttered.

            They began to talk quietly on the balcony, hands loosely intertwined, and staring up at the stairs. Brains couldn’t help but think, that for once, things seemed to be going his way.


End file.
